Can't Buy Me Love, A Beatles Fanfiction
by ZamBeatles
Summary: Elizabeth Henderson never pictured her life as anything but average. But one day, out of the blue, come four lads from Liverpool, and for the sake of money, she becomes John Lennon's newly wed life. At first, she can't find a single thing to like about him. But people change, and so do feelings.
1. A Day in the Life

Wake up at 7:00am. Wake up Rachael since she's too lazy to set an alarm. Feed Bing or else he'll never stop meowing. Eat breakfast. Shower. Get dressed. Do some girly stuff. Go to work at nine. This was how it was, day in and day out for Elizabeth Henderson and her best friend Rachael Smith. They'd been doing this for the past two years, ever since they scored a job at the nicest hotel in New York. There was never change. Never something unexpected. Nothing new. Life was a routine. But that's how Lizzy preferred it. She savored the calmness and security that a rigidly uninteresting life brought. Judge her, I dare you.

"Elizabeth, hurry up or we're going to be late!" A familiar voice echoed through the small, cramped five room flat that Liz and Rachael shared. Lizzy stubbornly ignored the Rachael's nagging as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She adjusted her tattered white apron, slightly worn from being out on so much. Her dress was no better off, and her black heels had lost most of their shine. But Elizabeth herself managed to look somewhat better than plain, with their straightened golden blonde hair and complimentary amount of makeup. With one last smoothing down of the hair, Liz grabbed her small handbag and headed into the living room where Rachael was pacing about moodily. If there was one thing that Rachael hated, it was tardiness. Which was strange for her, since she was awfully lazy. Rachael was a year older than Lizzy, and a few inches taller. Her hair was chestnut brown and cut stylishly short, she had hazel-green eyes, and expressive, sharp eyebrows. They had been friends since first grade, and though they both attended college for a time, they both decided to drop out and move in together. It was so much simpler trying to make a living rather than going through all that painstaking work to get a degree.

"Gosh, Liz, how long does it take to throw on a goddamn dress and be done with it?" she said sternly, though there was a tiny hint of a smile on her face. With a roll of her eyes, Liz delivered a playful punch to Rachael's shoulder, and giggled as they headed out onto the sidewalk.

"Well, I might have been out sooner if someone hadn't taken so long to get out of the shower," she retorted, waving down a bright yellow taxi. They sat in the backseat together, their heads turned in opposing directions as they drove along. The hotel was a mere ten minutes away from their flat, but for some reason it seemed to be taking longer. Liz's azure blue eyes drifted ahead of her, and she saw lines of cars and more people than usual bustling along on the sidewalk.

"Traffic's bad today," she murmured to herself, sitting back and praying no one would notice if they came into work late. They finally reached the tall, elegant hotel, but a surprising sight greeted them there. Hundreds of teenage girls were flocked together outside the hotel's front entrance, screaming various obscenities that the girls didn't catch. There was also plenty of paparazzi to be seen, with their flashing cameras and pens and paper. Dazed, but still aware that they were running late, the two girls hurriedly made their way to the back entrance and quietly came into the lobby. No one even acknowledged their presence, and they both breathed silent sighs of relief. But before Liz could even speak a work, she felt Rachael hastily tugging her along into a room behind the front desk where they could clock in.

"Oh my gosh, Liz," Rachael whispered breathlessly to her friend. She was absolutely beaming, her eyes alight with excitement. "What's up with you? Why are you breathing so heavily? We didn't even run," Liz said, arching a pointed eyebrow at her friend. She'd hardly ever seen her friend act like this before. It was a strange sight. Rachael paused a moment to catch her breath before she continued. "It's the Beatles! They're here. I should've known. They flew in today. They're playing at Shea Stadium in two weeks. And they're staying here! Can you believe it? Do you think we'll get to see them? Maybe even clean their room?" she blabbered ceaselessly, her cheeks burning bright red at the thought of being able to even see her favorite band in person. Liz knew how unhealthy Rachael's obsession with the Beatles was. She never shut up about them, it seemed. Elizabeth honestly couldn't care less about them. She didn't like many of the songs she had heard by them. They were just another boy band to her. She had plenty of other things to focus on. They had been running low on cash. She was just trying to make a decent living here in this big city.

"Maybe. We'll have to see, huh?" Liz responded to Rachael's fangirling, feigning excitement and forcing a painfully fake smile. She didn't want to spoil all Rachael's fun, so she decided just to be nice about it. Though she knew in her heart that these Beatles were the last people she'd like to see.


	2. Meet The Beatles

A day passed. Despite the annoying, screeching women grouped together outside the hotel who wouldn't go away, the day was far less hectic than Elizabeth thought it would be. She cleaned a few rooms, brought some towels and food to people who asked for it, twiddled her thumbs. That was the usual. And the best part was, there had been no sign of the Beatles. She was content with them there, so long as they didn't screw anything up or cause mischief. She didn't know why she'd be suspicious of them. But then again, all young men were untrustworthy brutes. She didn't see much of Rachael until they both met up to go home. "Where have you been the whole time? I didn't even see you during lunch..." Liz began as they managed to get a taxi. But she stopped short in her speech. Her eyes suddenly narrowed, and she looked at Rachael suspiciously. "You went looking for them didn't you?"

Rachael clasped her hands behind her back in the most innocent looking fashion, and flashed a sheepish little smile. "Oh, me? Psh, come on Liz. You really think I would waste my time looking for them? They're probably trapped up in their suite so they won't get mauled by girls," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Liz wasn't easily fooled by the terrible act her friend had just put up, and simply shook her head.

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say, honey," she said with a tiny half smile, chuckling to herself. It was such an immature thing to do, especially since Rachael was twenty-four years old. She had a job to do. They weren't very comfortable financially. They had better things to do than chase some British boys around. That was child's play. Soon, they were back at the flat. Liz rushed into the bathroom to make sure she got in a quick shower before Rachael spent her usually thirty minutes in there. She washed off, dressed in a simple white nightgown, and settled on watching television.

And so begins the day where everything changed.

Liz woke to someone shaking her violently, and her eyes shot open in an instant. Her first notion was that there was a murderer in the place, so she quickly threw the unknown arms off of her. Vision blurred, eyes half closed, she instinctively slapped her hand across the stranger's cheek. A loud squeak emitted from this alleged murderer, and Liz immediately blushed from embarrassment as she realized who it was.

"Liz, what the hell was that for?" Rachael whined. Now, as Liz's vision cleared, she could see clearly Rachael hovering over her, rubbing her right cheek and pouting. She was already dressed for work. Liz sat up, and rubbed her eyes tiredly as she looked around. She was lying on the couch, the new was on, and it seemed brighter than usual outside. "Anyway, um, yeah. It's eight thirty, you've got twenty minutes before we leave," she said passively.

"WHAT?!" Liz exclaimed, pushing past Rachael in an instant and dashing into the bathroom. This didn't make any sense. She never fell asleep watching TV. She never slept in. It was always seven. Always. Well, the shower was inevitably quick, and that gave her just enough time to straighten her hair and such. It didn't look as good as it usually did, but she was running short on time. She rushed out of the bathroom, and grabbing Rachael by the wrist, she yanked her outside. Once they grabbed a taxi they were off. This day didn't feel right. Liz couldn't ignore that fact as they drove along again. She was worried that if they were late two days in a row they might get fired or something. Everything had gone wrong so far. And it never went wrong. It had been going right since their first day on the job. She decided to place the blame on the Beatles. Their arrival had just screwed everything up and she was not at all pleased. The hotel was still surrounded by tons of girls, though a bit less this time. Now it seemed that there was more paparazzi. It didn't matter to Lizzy, as long as they didn't bother her. They nearly sprinted into the hotel, and the clocked in just in time. It was a miracle, but they did it. It made Lizzy feel a little bit better about the whole morning problem, but she felt uneasy and upset.

As Rachael left to attend to her duties, today it was Liz's job to attend to all the suites that day. Which was fine. That meant less rooms she had to look over. People could be so high maintenance, you know. It was no more than thirty minutes before she received her first order of the day. The man running the front desk handed her a slip of paper with a list of meals written on it. It looked like everything on the breakfast and brunch menu. "They ordered all of this?" she thought to herself, but with a simple nod she took the paper and went down a hallway to where the kitchen was. She delivered the orders to the chef, and as he prepared all the meals, she watched him with curiosity. She had always wondered how cooks...well, how they cook. She was never that good. Cake was about all she could do. It took quite a bit of time to prepare all the dishes, at least an hour. But soon, everything was set on a trolley (it barely all fit on one).

Checking the room number that was scribbled on the paper, she lugged the cart of food towards the elevator. The room was on the highest floor, the fourteenth story to be exact. "Geez, there must be about twenty people in there," she muttered to herself as the lift carried her to the very top of the hotel. She headed down the hall, but another maid caught her eye. She knew who it was straight away. "Rachael! What are you doing here?" she demanded, and the startled maid turned around to face her friend. "

It's a long story, Liz. Well-" Rachael began, but she stopped short. Heaving a sigh, she shrugged. "Whatever. You caught me. It's not like you can do anything about it. But anyway. What're you doing here?" she replied, her eyes drifting over to the trolley of food. "Whoa. Is that all for one room?"

"I guess so. Weird, huh? Come on. You may as well come with me, since you're up here," Liz replied with a shrug, beckoning for Rachael to follow her as she continued down the hall. Soon, they reached the designated room. Room 1414. Elizabeth gave a few small taps on the door, can called out in a sweet and friendly voice, "Room service!" There was a brief silence. But the brief silence turned into a long silence. Liz exchanged a quick glance with Rachael, before knocking again, a bit louder this time. The second time seemed to do the trick. There was low chatter that could be heard from inside the room, and a few footsteps. And finally, the door was opened a crack. A single, dark eye peeked out. The man then proceeded to fling the door open the whole way. He was thin, very thin. He could probably pass through a needle he was so skinny. He could really use all this food, by the looks of him. He had high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, dark brown moptop hair, and eyes to match. He was smoking a cigarette, and dressed in a formal, yet somewhat casual suit.

"Oh 'ello," he said, and paused as he caught sight of the cart filled with all the food. "Oh, is that all the food I ordered? Would you mind bringing it in for me?" he asked in a thick Scouse accent, and without waiting for an answer, he turned around and headed back into the room. Lizzy was about to pull the cart in when Rachael grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her violently.

"Do you know who that was? That was George Harrison! Oh my gosh. I can't breathe. Why didn't you tell me you were bringing them food?" she whispered to her, doing her best to contain her squeals. Liz rolled her eyes, and pushed Rachael away from her. "Well, I didn't know this was their room. And anyway, you need to relax. They're just human beings. Act cool, all right?" she warned her friend, who like a child, put a finger to her lips and shut herself up with a bright smile. With that, Elizabeth pulled the cart into the large suite, Rachael trailing a few paced behind her. The suite was bigger than their flat back home, with a wide, spacey living room connected to a nice little kitchen. A hallway led to a few bedrooms and the bathroom. This George Harrison fellow sat on the wide sofa in the living room, and motioned for Liz to bring the cart over there. Sitting with him were four other men. One had girly eyebrows and puppy dog eyes. One had a big nose and pretty blue eyes. One had auburn-brown hair and a sneering expression. And the other had slicked, neatly combed hair and a very posh appearance. The latter two seemed to be engaged in an argument as Liz entered the room.

"Well, Brian, you're the manager. What are we gonna do, hm?"

"I told you Lennon, I don't know yet. This is your fault anyway. Why'd you have to go running your mouth in front of the newsman? All you've done this year is cause trouble."

"Well it was you who scheduled the whole press conference in the first place!"

Elizabeth looked rather uncomfortable having walked in on an apparent argument, and blushed a bit as she cleared her throat to grab their attention. "Your meals, gentleman?" she offered them the cart with a plastered smile. But suddenly she became aware that the two who'd been arguing, this Brian and Lennon, were looking at her as if she were an angel. The longer haired chap stood up and confronted Liz, much to her resentment, and circled her a few times.

Then, with a crooked smirk, he looked back at Brian, and said, "How about this one then?"


	3. Money(That's What I Want)

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at the man standing in front of her, clearly confused as to what he was talking about. She cast a look back at Rachael, but the girl was so mesmerized by the boys lounging in front of her that she didn't even seem to acknowledge Liz's presence. With a small huff, Elizabeth turned back towards the five men. Lennon was still standing in front of her, arms folded and his head turned towards the others. George, Big Nose, Girl Brows, and Brian were all studying her face like she was a text book, and she was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. She had no idea what was happening. She didn't want to know. She and Rachael had to get back to work.

Before she could excuse herself and get the heck out of there, Brian stood up to confront her. "Are you sure, John? I mean, she doesn't really look like Cyn. Cyn had brown eyes. And her face was a bit rounder," he noted, rubbing his chin as he looked Liz up and down.

"Yes, but she's got the blonde hair. And they've got the same nose. I bet she could pass off for Cynthia. The press is made up of dumbasses anyway. And what other choice do we have?" John replied, prodding at Liz's cheek a few times as if to make sure she was human.

Elizabeth, no longer able to handle the scrutinizing pressure, slapped John's hand away, and looked at all of them with wide, bewildered eyes. "Can someone please tell me what's going on? I have to get back to work," she said, trying to sound polite, though it was evident she was becoming restless and edgy.

Brian suddenly gasped, placing a hand to his chest and shaking his head. "Oh. Where are my manners? Please forgive me, miss. My name's Brian. Brian Epstein. Erm, do these four need introductions...?" he asked, holding out his hand to Liz in greeting.

Elizabeth furrowed her brows slightly, and gave a curt nod. Did they really think they were too good to give their names, at least? "Yes, Mr. Epstein, they do. I'm afraid I've never met them," Liz answered through gritted teeth, plastering on a smile as her eyes drifted over the other four chaps. She didn't like the looks of them...well, actually, she did. They were cutie patooties. But she still didn't like them. Not one bit.

"Of, uh, of course," Brian said frivolously, and cleared his throat. "This is John, that's Paul, there's George, and finally Richard, or Ringo, if you fancy being informal," he said, gesturing to each one as he said their names.

"Charmed," Liz responded as he introduced them, her voice mingled with tolerance and a slight hint of sarcasm. She paused, shuffling her feet as a brief moment of silence ensued. The stares each of the lads were giving her unnerved her. Especially John. He was looking at her like she was some sort of scientific phenomenon. "Well, Mr. Epstein, could you please explain to me what's going on? I have a job I and my friend here have to return to," she finally inquired, seeing as no one was forwarding the conversation.

Brian chuckled lightly at Liz's questioning, which caused to only annoy the girl further. "Oh, my dear, your job now is going to be a thing of the past, shortly."

"Excuse me?"

Brian continued, and what he said was something Liz or Rachael would never have expected, even in their wildest dreams. "Well, all right. Let me explain. I can see you don't know what's going on," he began, heaving a sigh and gesturing towards John. "It's a long story, and we're running short on time. But basically, we ran a press conference a month or so ago. They asked lots of questions about the upcoming show at Shea and thing to that effect. One newsman then asked the boys whether they'd be bringing their wives. Well, seeing as though John is the only one with a wife, he decided it was his job to run his mouth. He said he was certainly going to bring over his spouse, Cynthia," Brian said, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head.

"Ok…Well, what's the problem?"

"Some…erm…complications arose. And about a week ago, John and Cynthia decided to go their separate ways, which comes to no surprise to me," he said, getting a death stare from John, but he and the other three Beatles remained silent as Brian continued. "It was such an untimely divorce, but there's nothing we can do. We have a press conference in about an hour. They'll be expecting Cynthia to be there, with John. And if they don't see her, they'll come up with the most insane and speculative stories that we don't want. It's bad publicity. But that's where you come in," Brian said, his expression going from disappointed to eager as he began to pace back and forth around the living room. "You look enough like Cynthia to pass off as her. So you've got blue eyes, and a slightly different facial structure, but I can assure you no one will notice. The way I see it, you can come along with us for the duration of the trip, which will last about little less than a month, pose as John's wife, and we'll be all right!" Brian exclaimed, quite pleased with having come up with such a scheming plot. The others nodded, also believing the plan to be full proof. But Liz looked absolutely horrified, her eyes wide, arms crossed stubbornly, and mouth agape in shock. They thought they could just make her do this? What idiots!

"Are you assuming I'm just going to agree with this whole mess?" she said, doing her best to not raise her voice. Any trace of politeness had been eliminated from her tone as she fixed a hard stare on Brian. Brian stopped short in praising himself for his genius idea and suddenly blushed scarlet when Liz spoke up again. "Oh wait, so uh, you, you're not-" he spoke incoherently, spluttering on and not being able to form a full sentence. He finally calmed himself, and straightened his tie with a slight huff. "Do you mean to say, you're unwilling to spend a near month with these four boys? Don't you like The Beatles?" he asked, attempting to smile persuasively but failing.

"I've hardly listened to them," Liz replied dryly, and she noticed Paul and Ringo exchange confused glances with each other when she said this. "What makes you think that I'd just agree to that? That I'd just quit my job to run around with these guys? You must be crazy if you think I'd just drop everything for them. I'm not so pathetic fangirl," she continued with a sour expression, her eyes never once leaving Brian, who became progressively more skittish as Liz spoke. He rubbed the back of his neck, biting his fingers in an attempt to think of some way to persuade her. He then snapped his fingers, and the confident grin returned to his face within a few seconds of pondering.

"Well…what if I said there was money involved?"

This caused Elizabeth to bite back the sharp reply she had prepared for whatever he had to say, and she stopped to seriously consider this offer. She looked down, clasping her hands in front of her, and mulled things over in her mind. Money was the one thing she and Rachael needed, the one thing they'd like to have in their life. Maybe with some new cash, they could buy some new furniture, nicer clothes, they could actually pay their taxes without worrying about not having any cash to spare. But she didn't want to give in so easily. So she shrugged a bit, and asked, "Well, how much are you willing to give me?"

Brian tapped his chin before responding in his typical, business-like voice, "I'd be willing to spare two thousand American dollars. But, if that doesn't appease you, I could offer more," he said. He had hoped she would have done it for free. He sort of assumed every girl would have done it for free. But for the Beatles, two thousand dollars wasn't too much.

Liz's mouth dropped even further than last time, if that was even possible, and this even caused Rachael to look up in surprise from her daydreaming. "Two thousand, seriously? Th-that's a lot of money," Liz managed to stammer out.

Brian smiled, knowing he had at least convinced her somewhat. "Well, it can be yours, if you just say yes," he said, and he offered out a hand to her as a sign of sealing the deal.

Liz outstretched her hand, but something hindered her and she stopped midway. She bit her lip, and flashed a tiny grin before grabbing Rachael's wrist. "I just need to have a quick word with my friend before I agree to anything. If you'll excuse us," she said tugging Rachael back out into the corridor.

Brian allowed her to go, and as soon as the hotel door clicked close, he looked at the four boys with a wide smile. "We've hit a spot of luck finding her, haven't we? What do you fellows think of her?"

"She was pretty," Ringo chirped.

"She brought me really good pancakes," George chimed in, his mouth full of food as he added extra whipped cream to a giant plate of pancakes on his lap.

"She didn't really seem to like us. We haven't even done anything wrong!" Paul said a tad defensively.

"She's fucking stubborn. I'm surprised she even considered agreeing taking our money. I'd never go for someone like her," John said passively, picking at some food on he trolley.

"Hmph," Brian began with a roll of his eyes. "If she's so stubborn, I figured you two would have a lot in common, Lennon."

Meanwhile, the two girls were speaking to each other in low, quiet voices in the hallway. "What should we do, Rachael? This is once in a lifetime. But I don't wanna just, y'know, leave you behind while I'm gone," Liz began.

Rachael looked at her like she was a mentally insane person, and she even laughed. "Liz, please. Don't be such a moron. If this is once in a lifetime, then you ought to take your chances no matter what. I'll be fine. I've got Bing. And plus, I now where you guys are gonna be staying, so they can't say no if I wanna visit my friend," she said, and paused a moment, patting her friend's shoulder. "I know you don't really like them. It won't be easy for you. But just give 'em a chance, yeah? Maybe you'll change your mind in the end," she said with a shrug, and smiled as Liz stepped forward to tightly embrace her friend.

"Maybe you're right. But who cares about that? We're gonna get money, finally!" she squeaked excitedly, and the two girls did little happy dances before regaining their composure and knocking at the door once more. Brian was there to answer, and he smiled to see Elizabeth holding out a hand to him. "You've got a deal, Mr. Epstein."


End file.
